


Keep Running, Soft Heart

by GreenReticule



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidentally a Single Dad, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Darth Maul Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Maul Jettster Verse, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenReticule/pseuds/GreenReticule
Summary: It's not like Dex could have known. All he saw was a kid, hungry and hurt.Then again, if he had known, it's not like it would have changed a damn thing.This is a galaxy shaped on the simplest of decisions. And when it finds itself decided, there’s no arguing with a heart like Dexter Jettster's.
Relationships: Darth Maul & Dexter Jettster
Comments: 84
Kudos: 177





	1. A Crime Queen’s Warning

Maz's goggles clicked back, her eyes shrinking behind the lenses once more.

"I love you, Dexi Jet, but you're soft in the head."

Breaking eye contact, Dex waved one hand dismissively. A little sumthin' nibbled in the back of his mind; it wasn't like Maz to take up issue with the jobs he ran. At least not since he'd busted her out of hot water on Malastare. Ugly business, that gambling ring. Point was, he'd proved himself no greenhorn that day, proved he was built for this underworld life. Maz had stopped doling out advice to him like a mentor and started sharing intel like a peer. So the fact that she was now telling him not to take this Mustafar run should mean something to him.

But Dex could feel this job in his gut, and not even Crime Queen Maz Kanata could argue with a gut like his.

"Ya got any actual warnings here, Maz? Because the pay's good, the run's easy - with the right equipment, which I have - so unless you or the Force has specifics to share, I'm taking the job."

With a sigh, Maz leaned back in her chair, relenting. “Be wise, Dexi. After all–”

"Yeah, yeah... I’m soft in the head."

* * *

_That boy always mishears my words._

_You are not soft in the head, Dexi Jet. I could travel the galaxy and never find a mind as keen as yours._

_That is why you thrive among us in the underworld._

_You are soft in the heart._

_That is why the underworld will eat you alive._

_When I looked into your eyes just now, Dexi, I saw two futures. In one, you find that balance between the underworld adventure you crave and the settled life where you thrive._

_In the second, you make the Mustafar run._

_And then you never stop running._

_The Force doesn’t deal in the business of providing specifics, but I watched it shudder and bend to an inevitability the moment you shook on the job._

_Ours is a galaxy shaped on the simplest of decisions. And when it finds itself decided, there’s no arguing with a heart like yours._

* * *

Heat. Let it be known that Dexter Jettster never knew the meaning of the word until that job. If he could peel off his skin, he would have stuffed it in the pack alongside his shirt the moment the Mustafar air hit him. Besalisks weren’t built for heat like this. Dex wasn’t sure if _any_ sentient was.

Closing the door of his light freighter, Dex hoped the cooling system would keep the engine from completely capitulating. Shoulda taken the offer up to ride with the team, but there was Maz’s warning, still nibbling away at him.

He joined his fellow miners – Sinyc, Kelvin, and another scowling individual who refused to share their name – trudging up one of the ashen hills. Their employer had hit pay dirt with a mineral vein about a week back and had sent up a call for laborers. This team was the first to arrive, would get a rhythm flowing and the mine stabilized for the incoming teams. Hardest job, best pay.

Dex was feelin’ pretty good about this whole situation – heat aside – when Master Scowler, went ahead into what currently composed the mine shaft, and gave a howl.

Leaving the camp they’d been pitching on the flat, Dex sprinted towards the mine, glowrod in hand. He heard blasters yanked out of holsters behind him, Sinyc and Kelvin following more cautiously. There was the sound of a scuffle and blows, but no growls, nothing to indicate a wild animal. Just the yelps and curses of the miner.

The beam from Dex’s glowrod finally found Master Scowler, who shook his hand vigorously as if hurt, “Set my satchel down for one moment, and the little bastard tries to steal it.”

Sinyc and Kelvin were at Dex’s elbows now – using his bulk as cover, Dex noted wryly – their guns trained at the mine.

“Come out, thief!” Sinyc snarled.

The scowling of their number also retreated behind Dex as the glowrod’s beam sought the inside of the mineshaft. A shadow flicked away from the edge of the spotlight, Kelvin’s trigger finger leaping. Dex clamped a hand down on Kelvin’s blaster even as the bolt seared its way into the shaft. Really no need for that. All they had right now was a thief; no need for killing over something like that.

A reprimand was on the tip of Dex’s tongue when a small shape hurtled out of the darkness, bounding over Dex – his arms the figure’s makeshift ladder – and snapping a hard strike into Sinyc’s arms. The blaster went skitterin’ away, Synic went down for the count, and the little figure landed in a perfect ready-stance that would’ve made Dex rethink an opponent back in his brawler days. Well… almost a perfect ready-stance. But that was only a vague recognition somewhere in Dex’s brain.

The primary thing his brain was shouting at him was: _that’s a kid_.

Stars, just a little scrap of a zabrak.

Another arm of Dex’s shot out to grab at Master Scowler as the miner charged the kid. This adult _charged a kid_. Dex missed, his grip slipping on Kelvin’s blaster, as he too pulled out of Dex’s reach.

With a scowl to rival even the miner charging his way, the kid slipped under the aimed blow and sprang at him. Whatever the kid did, it was too fast for Dex to see, but it left Scowler crumpled on the ground with a shattered arm.

Kid’s stance was… strange. Dex couldn’t quite place it, but he watched the little figure’s movements change from fluid to stiff and back, just by pivoting around the waist.

The report of a blaster pulled Dex out of his observations, lunging for Kelvin – _firing at a kid. What sort of nerf fecal bastards have I gotten myself in with?_ – and crushing the trigger of the blaster with one massive hand. Too late.

The bolts were already streaking towards the little figure. A pit formed in Dex’s gut, even as he latched eyes on the kid he was going to watch die.

Impossibly fast, with almost perfect form, the kid danced around every last bolt, and there it was again. That pivot from fluidity into a stiffness, and Dex could finally see how it all centered on the kid’s left arm. Held at an awkward angle.

Never in his life did Dex recall moving as fast as he did in that moment. To the kid’s credit, he didn’t flinch at the sudden movement, but he did immediately snarl and kick at Dex. Dex took the blow – an impressive one that would leave a bruise for sure – as all four of his hands were occupied.

One to hold the right arm, as the kid had hooked his fingers into claws, resorting to the kick when his elbow had been engulfed by Dex’s hand. His two lower arms were used to hold the kid’s torso steady. Technically, only one should have been needed; kid was so damn skinny but so damn squirmy.

Dex’s final palm gently held up the left arm, fingers ghosting over the place it had clearly broken and rehealed without proper setting.

“C’mon, Jettster. Dump him and let’s get on with the job!”

Dex’s eyes unfocused and his throat pouch flared in indignation. He could not have heard that right.

“The kid has a broken arm, Sinyc”

“Yeah well, so does our scowling friend. And we won’t be able to get the mine set-up complete with that scrap hanging about.”

Dex risked looking away from the kid – who, sure ‘nough, tried to wiggle away – and fixed Sinyc with a glare. Back on his feet, Sinyc shrugged in return, “Okay so tie him up somewhere where he can’t get into our business.”

Swallowing the glare from his face, Dex turned back to the kid, who stopped trying to tug himself free and went still. And waited.

In spite of himself, a chuckled rumbled out of his wide mouth. “Tryin’ to get me to drop my guard so you can slip out? Clever kid.”

The kid’s brown eyes flashed gold for an instant as his next attempt at freedom summoned a strength impossible for one so small. Dex staggered forward to one knee with the effort but kept his grip firm, but not tight enough to hurt. He heard Sinyc swear and urge him to do… something… again. Whatever it was, wasn’t worth listening to.

Kid staggered in-kind, his little body shaking from the effort. A low gurgle made its way into the space between them, and Dex clamped down on his laughter this time. Sure, anyone would be cranky if they were hungry, but this skin-and-bones kid… Dex could have slapped himself for not thinking of it sooner if all his hands weren’t occupied. Scowler’s satchel had rations. Little thief just trying to survive.

Dex shifted his grip a little, but the surge of strength seemed to have leaked everything from the kid, and no escape attempt was made. Eyes, brown once more, became heavy lidded. As Dex gathered him to his chest, cradling his small form and supporting the broken limb, the kid passed out.

“Well… you done there?” Sinyc drawled in mock patience.

“Yeah. I’m done here. Y’can keep my rations,” Dex said. He had his own stores aboard his ship after all.

Sinyc sputtered about payment and workload, Dex shrugging them both off as he gathered his personal tools and one of the medkits. “Y’can split both of ‘em between you. I’m set on getting this kid some help.”

“This is a black mark, Jettster! Nobody in the Mining Guild gonna hire you after this.”

Well then it was good thing mining wasn’t the only job around in the galaxy. Once again, all of Dex’s hands were in use, none left to wave, so he called a goodbye over his shoulder and started the long trudge back to the ship.

The kid woke up with about two thirds of the journey left to go. Pinned as he was between an arm and a chest, there wasn’t much his squirms could do, except “You’re yankin’ on this bad arm of yers, kid.” The kid had no reaction to the pain, but Dex winced in sympathy as every escape attempt twisted the left arm more.

He stopped walking, set down his gear, and once again used all four arms to still the zabrak. It was his turn to be treated to that scowl, the only weapon left in the kid’s arsenal.

_Stars, what is he? Five? Maybe older. Can’t remember the zabrak life cycle off th’top of my head, and being so scrawny and skinny probably has me misjudging him. Whatever he is… it’s too young._

“Now I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid,” Dex said. The scowl deepened. “What I’m gonna do is take you back to my ship. I got a medkit here and there, along with some food.”

The scowl changed into some sorta attempt at stoicism. Dex didn’t like that; it threw him off, knotted something awful in his chest. There was just something wrong – and contradictorily vulnerable – in a kid doing that face.

Dex pushed through the feeling and continued: “Now do you have parents out here?”

Dex was sure he knew the answer, so the kid’s continued stoicism didn’t surprise him. Just tightened that knot in his chest a little more.

“…or anyone who needs to know I’ve got you?”

Fear.

Utter fear. Crossed the kid’s face.

Dex’s heart fit to burst, his shoulders squared with the need to fight… _someone_.

_This. Is. A. Kid. Who makes a kid this frightened?_

“No.”

The single word, the little answer, pulled Dex out of his anger. So the kid could talk. Kid could understand him. Dex gave himself the space of several breaths, his throat pouch swelling with each one, before he replied.

“Alright then, kiddo. So we’re gonna go to my ship. I’m gonna fix that arm. And you’re gonna eat some grub. And then –” _I’m getting you the hell out of here._ But that nibbling at the back of his mind, Maz’s warning, stopped him before the words reached air. “…and then we’ll go from there. Agreed?”

It was a long span of silence before the kid nodded, but nod he did; Dex gathered back his gear, and off they went.


	2. A Soft Heart’s Promise

Sometimes folks flinched when you applied bacta to wounds. Little bit of a sting as it does its work.

Kid didn’t flinch.

Kid sure did fight.

Before getting to the arm, before eating, Dex had the kid clean himself up in the ‘fresher’s sonic shower. By luck, there were still some of Maz’s clothes stored in an odd corner from back when she and Dex were dating, so the kid didn’t have to go swimming in Dex’s spare trousers.

Side effect of gettin’ cleaned up meant that Dex now saw dozens of scars once hidden by the ash and soot. Even more were visible closer up, as the kid’s black markings against a vibrant red skin – _A Nightbrother zabrak? Out here?_ – made other wounds difficult to see.

He made the kid sit shirtless on a chair in the kitchenette, food on the counter next to him. So far so good.

It was when Dex went to try cleaning away obvious threats of infection that the fighting started.

Kid had gotten rest, but not food, and that arm still hadn’t been set, so Dex was able to restrain him again. But it took all four arms. Again.

They sat at this impasse for a while until the kid’s eyes slipped, ever-so-briefly, to the food, and then away. Almost ashamed at displaying need.

With a sigh, Dex leaned back from the chair, relenting. The kid tore into the food.

Made him think of the rations he left with Sinyc, Kelvin, and Scowler. Made him think of Sinyc’s rage at Dex leaving ‘em behind.

He hadn’t taken his former coworkers as the vengeful sort, but he also hadn’t taken them as the sort to fire on a kid. Wouldn’t hurt none to re-secure the ship entrances. Just in case.

The kid paused in eating to watch Dex rise to his feet. Dex also paused, considering. Eh, where would the kid go?

With a smile that was not returned, Dex left the zabrak in the kitchenette and made his way through the ship, rechecking locks on the bay door and the docking airlock. It was the latter that needed a touch of resetting from the Mustafarian heat. Typing in a code that recycled the airlock mechanism gave Dex another taste of the blistering temperatures as the doors opened briefly. Stars be blazing, it must have been this hellscape that had Maz up in arms about warnin’ him off this job.

Speaking of warnings…

The footsteps were so fast, so light (and the heat so damned distracting), that Dex didn’t catch the flash of a form hurtling towards the airlock until the kid was halfway through the closing doors. A startled yelp passing his lips, Dex launched all four arms to capture the kid and pull him back in as the airlock hissed shut.

It was an explosion of motion. Dex had to snatch one arm back before the kid shattered it. Teeth sank into another hand that Dex was too slow to pull to safety, and kriffing _hells_ the kid had a bite. Blinking through the pain, Dex gingerly tried to grab at the flailing, furious kid and found that – once the kid released his bite – that the best way to keep the kid from hurting himself, was to try to back the hell away.

The explosion subsided as the kid noticed Dex’s retreat. He began to take deliberate, slow strides forward to match Dex. Staring into golden eyes, Dex realized he was watching himself being stalked. A chilling sensation that he fought down.

_This. is. a kriffing. child. And one who needs my help._

Dex stopped backing up and slowly took a knee, “I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. But I can’t let you go back out there in your condition. Your wounds, your arm–”

He was ready – sort of – for the explosion this time. Enough to avoid the snapping teeth and to deflect the holds that would crack his bones. Eventually, in between two strikes, the kid staggered. Dex didn’t even try to block the next blow. It grazed his elbow with barely a whisper.

He was ready – wholly – for when the rest of the energy leaked out of the little limbs. Dex caught the kid as he passed out, food fueling the little zabrak for only so long.

Without the kid fighting him, it took little time to clean away the threats of infection and to dress the various open wounds.

Dex then scooped up the kid and brought him to the sleeping quarters on the ship. Dex had always thought about removing the second bunk. It was taking up space, and it wasn’t like no one was using it. Right now, as he settled the kid down onto a pillow, he was glad he never followed through.

There. Now the kid was fed and had his wounds clean and had a soft place to rest. The only thing left was…

Dex balked.

Resetting the arm… it didn’t feel right at this point. Not when the kid was so weak in every other area. Dex – for the all the medical knowledge he did have as a star-wanderer – was no doctor. Still, he didn’t think it would help none if the tiny body had to fight off infection, hunger, _and_ a re-broken limb. Or maybe it _was_ the right move, right now, while the kid was passed out. A mercy, maybe?

Dex reached out and cradled the arm between two hands and then immediately lay it back down on the bed, still in its poorly-healed state.

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He could hear the sound of small bones breaking in his head. He could feel the sensation of them cracking beneath his fingers. His two hands that had ventured out now were quivering at Dex’s side.

Maz’s voice slipped through his memory, _“You’re soft in the head”_

 _No_.

This was smart. Kid didn’t trust him as it were. How the hell much worse would it be if he woke up with his arm re-broken? Dex was making the right decision here.

He pulled up a blanket around the kid’s shoulders, tucked him in. The fabric rose and fell too rapidly, as if the kid was still in fight-or-flight mode, even asleep.

Damn well near killed Dex to watch it. He tore his eyes away and closed the door to the quarters. He thought about that fear in the kid’s eyes, when Dex had asked if there was someone who he needed to contact for the kid. He thought about who this blighter, this _bastard_ , might be as he went about and rechecked the doors to the ship once more.

Sure, that spark of fear was all Dex knew about the cad, but for him, it was enough. He found his heart swearing all manner of violence against the bastard, as he added safety measures to the security system.

Good thing too – the safety measures, that is – because the moment the kid was awake and fed, he bolted for another escape attempt. Dex stopped him; kid fought him. Kid passed out; Dex checked and redressed wounds that had reopened. And as the kid slept, Dex reset the security measures once more. Kid wasn’t just fast; kid was smart too. Halfway hacked into the door mechanisms before Dex could stop him. He changed access codes and did a touch of rewiring to make the next attempt harder.

It became a lengthy but predictable cycle of waking, feeding, escaping, fighting, fainting, bandaging, securing. Kid was getting stronger each cycle, but only incrementally. The insistence on escaping and fighting left the kid drained, no matter how much sleep he got, no matter how much food he had.

Three days, sometimes twice or thrice a day, this cycle went on. Dex couldn’t blame the kid wholly; probably felt like a prisoner. Tried talking to the kid, to explain. Dex wasn’t about to let him back out onto Mustafar in this state. It’d be a death sentence. Kid either didn’t understand or didn’t care.

Then, at last, the fourth day had a fourth cycle. Dex was wiped beyond belief, but the kid more so. The escape attempt and struggle was quite a miserable and pathetic sight. They reached an impasse – Dex restraining the kid much in the same manner he did at the mine, but so weakly that the kid could have broken free… if the kid wasn’t leaning on one hand for support to just stay upright.

A wry chuckle slipped out of Dex’s mouth, “Never had a brawl gone on this long since Ord Mantell. At least then I knew my opponent’s name. Ya got one, kiddo?”

Kid summoned enough strength to glare.

“Well, c’mon, that won’t do. Part of courtesy to know your opponent. I’m Dex, as you know,” if the kid had been listening the three times Dex tried to introduce himself, “And you gotta have a name yourself. I can’t just keep thinking of you as ‘kiddo.’ How ‘bout Ruddy? Hawkins? Is your name Alongarthy? Si’niolocarnia?”

At this point, he was just talking to fill the space.

“Maul.”

Dex had begun to think the kid would never talk again, so he nearly leapt out of his skin at the single-word snap. The kid’s scowl turned to a toothy, narrow-eyed smile at the jump, and Dex could hardly begrudge him that. Nor could he begrudge him a name that was so obviously fake; at least “Maul” was talking to him at last. Dex wasn’t gonna shut that down with some nonsense argument.

“Ah, now that’s a fearsome name for a fearsome fella, ain’t it?”

The smile faded, but the scowl did not reappear. Kid was trying to work out if Dex was teasin’ or not. Well, Dex supposed he was, but then again…

“You had three hardened miners cowerin’ behind me like hatchlings, and that was _before_ you kicked their asses five ways to Zhellday.” He used one massive knuckle to give a light, friendly slug to Maul’s shoulder. Then realized he probably shouldn’t be swearing in front of a kid.

Pride. The tilt of the chin, the back straightening, a ghost of a smile returning.

Kid knew he was good.

“My master trained me well.”

Well look at that! A full sentence! Worthy of a big, eye-crinkling grin that Dex felt freeze as the words hit him. Maul’s own expression shifted so fast that Dex missed the moment pride transformed. The horror was just suddenly… there.

His throat pouch working like a bellows, Dex took several breaths to change his expression to something natural, even as anger began burning behind his eyes.

_So this “master” is the bastard I’m going to fight._

And there was Maz’s warning again, gnawing sumthin’ awful in his mind.

And there the kid went.

In the space it took Dex to think both thoughts, Maul had launched himself over Dex’s head, towards the airlock.

Pride. Dex actually felt a swell of it himself as he stood, lunged, and caught the kid with one hand and in one smooth motion. Maul hung there in shock, a massive palm cradling his torso. Unfortunately, the exhaustion likewise caught up with Dex after this burst of movement, and his knee gave out.

Dex still felt pride in that even as he fell heavily, he was able to control Maul’s descent, so that he hit less hard and rolled to absorb the shock. Though honestly, the kid probably had something to do with that too.

Both of them splayed out on the floor, on their backs, Maul just out of arms reach of Dex, airlock halfway hacked not a meter away.

Dex and Maul lifted their heads in unison to look at it, only to have every muscle in their bodies refuse to have anymore nonsense, and their heads thudded back to the metal deck.

They laid like that in silence, until the chuckles caught Dex. He couldn’t tell if the situation was genuinely funny or if the exhaustion had finally hit his brain, but the chuckles soon turned into roaring laughter at their state. When it finally subsided enough for him to glance over at Maul, he found the kid staring in confusion.

Dex grinned, “Stubborn asses, the pair of us, eh?”

Oop. Swearing in front of a kid again.

But worth it, apparently. A smile flashed and was gone. But Dex still saw it, and it lingered there in Maul’s brown eyes.

“Alright, Maul. Let me be straight with you. I mean, I’ve tried to be straight with you these last few days, but now since we can’t do nothing but talk… well… okay,” Dex tried to rally up all his explanations into a new order. “I’m not trying to steal you, kiddo. You don’t want to come with me, that’s fine. I’ll let you go _when_ you’re all healed up. My heart won’t let me allow that any sooner. Can’t bear to think of a kid like you out there alone, especially hurt like you are.”

Maul’s mouth scowled. His eyes didn’t.

Dex couldn’t exactly read what Maul was thinking, but he took that as encouragement and continued, “Thing is though, the more you keep fighting me and trying to escape, well…” Dex gestured at the space between them. “So if’nstead you work with me in gettin’ rest and getting’ your wounds clean and your arm fixed, why, that’ll be a lot less time you gotta spend in my company. Can ya help me with that?”

Maul considered this. Then he nodded.

And with that, Dex lay his head back down on the floor and let exhaustion truly claim him.

* * *

Dex bolted awake in fear. Scolding himself with a thousand curses.

He shot a glance towards the airlock. Closed.

The control panel. It had already been halfway hacked.

With a groan that his joints echoed, Dex rose to his feet, and gingerly stepped to check the panel properly. No telling for sure if it had been fully–

A quiet noise from the kitchen stilled Dex’s panic. He (gingerly) made his way that direction to find Maul struggling to bind the reopened wounds on his back.

“Ey, I gotcha there, buddy,” Dex said as he (gingerly) crossed his way over to the kid and settled to the floor with an involuntary “oof.”

Maul’s gaze snapped to him, wary. But he let Dex take over without a fight.

A hiss escaped through teeth – Dex’s, not Maul’s – as bacta was applied. Dex hoped their little truce would hold; even their pathetic scuffle was too much for these wounds. Maul needed to give his body time to heal.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Dex said.

Something hardened behind Maul’s wariness. Gold flickered briefly in his eyes then was gone. Was that a Nightbrother thing that kept happening with the eyes?

“I mean about you getting hurt so much,” Dex clarified. “Proba’ly some of that was my–”

“There is no pain where strength lies.” A snapping interrupt that made Dex grimace.

“What the– where’d you pick up that piece of nerf fe–”

“My master.”

Oh. The kid said it like it were an accusation or rebuke. Dex didn’t like that much. Any of it.

“Well, I won’t tell him ‘bout this if you won’t,” he tried to make light with a wink.

“He’ll know anyway. He knows everything about me.”

 _He don’t know enough to treat you right_ , Dex simmered. Everything about this fellow reeked fierce and turned Dex’s gut, and the kid ought to know that. But Master Bastard seemed to be a delicate topic–

Beneath the bandage he was replacing, Dex felt Maul tense.

–if not outright taboo.

Fine. Dex wouldn’t bring him up. For now. He wasn’t supposed to be swearing in front of a kid anyway, and all he had for Master Bastard was colorful language.

* * *

The rest of the day went without a hitch, and Dex was hoping to settle into a new routine that would actually allow the kid to actually heal properly. Unfortunately, there was one last scuffle to be had, the worst of the lot.

If he could have talked it through with Maul, maybe it would have gone better, but day five gave Dex no quarter.

First was the pinging in the cockpit: incoming ships. Which – hells – meant the rest of the mining crew. Dex really wasn’t in a mood to explain what all happened. Especially after Sinyc, Kelvin, and Scowler reacted to Maul.

 _Speaking of which_ , glancing up through the cockpit viewport, Dex saw three figures on approach, blasters in hand.

 _Hells_.

Dex immediately started the launch sequence.

Then Maul was at his elbow, betrayal and rage in his eyes.

Dex vaguely recalled trying to tell Maul he wasn’t stealing him, trying to explain, but Maul wasn’t listening, not with his eyes flashing gold.

The rest was chaos. Wrangling a scrawny zabrak kid with supernatural strength, the launch sequence powering down without explanation, blaster fire at the airlock. Somehow, somehow in the Force-forsaken galaxy, Dex managed to set the autopilot for orbit and wrestle Maul from the cockpit.

None of the previous exhaustion seemed to matter to the kid. He fought like a demon, and so Dex couldn’t let the previous exhaustion matter to him either as he did his best to restrain the boy and survive the boy’s attacks.

Somehow, somehow the airlock’s vacuum seal held and the autopilot avoided all of the landing ships, and somehow none of them bothered to pursue for petty revenge. And by the time the ship achieved orbit, Dex was collapsed in the hallway next to the cockpit, a little zabrak passed out in his arms.

And he still couldn’t let the exhaustion matter to him. Not until he bound the reopened wounds and opened the cockpit to check their orbit. Finding everything stable, Dex fell heavily into the pilot seat. Hyperspace was just a few button clicks away. He and the kid could be out of here in a matter of seconds. Away from the cynical, cold, and scowling miners. Away from the bastard who made Maul afraid.

Dex was ready to run.

But Dex made a promise.

Dex gently nudged Maul awake to see the Mustafar horizon, “See, buddy? We’re still here. I’m sorry we had to take off, but I swear it was only because of my old colleagues. I’m not hyperspacing away.” _But karkin’ hells I am sore tempted to._

Maul looked at the planet briefly before falling into unconsciousness once more.

The fight had set back Maul’s recovery significantly, but that view through the cockpit seemed to repair the fragile trust they were building. And so, in orbit above the burning hellscape, the pair settled into a new routine.

Bandaging, eating, and resting remained staples, but the fighting and escaping found replacements. Mostly menial duties, running diagnostics on the ship (blasted heat did get to some of the systems), cleaning, cooking, that sort of thing.

Dex was startled at Maul voluntarily putting his own work in, to the point that he had to order the kid to bed on more than one occasion. No more fighting was good but replacing that with endless chores wasn’t going to help none.

But, Dex had to admit, the times that they could work together on a chore was nice. Both in companionable silence and in the moments where he felt Maul’s rapt attention as Dex relayed a tale about the podraces on Malastare, a run with pirates near Florrum, or spotting a rare creature in the Ojomian tundra.

Maul offered little conversation in return, so Dex made sure to listen carefully whenever he did speak. He was impressed that Maul knew about the Ojomian Mo-Elk and told Maul so. (Maul took pride in that). He was less impressed when Maul would quote his master but didn’t tell Maul so. (Maul took notice anyway, Dex was sure).

They had good days and bad days and “meh” days together, and if Dex was honest, he was finding himself happy with this arrangement.

* * *

Two weeks after they hit orbit, it was time for a conversation Dex really didn’t want to have. He eased himself onto a kitchen chair next to Maul. “So.”

Maul looked up from his food.

Dex ran one of his hands over his crest, trying to work out the words. “You’ve gotten pretty strong there, kiddo. I think it’s about time we can go about resetting that arm of yours.”

Maul waited.

Damn, Dex knew Maul wasn't the most vocal but this particular silence wasn't helping.

“But the thing is,” Dex forced himself to continue, “in order to reset that arm properly…”

Never once. Never once in all this time did Dex hurt Maul. Never once. Not in all their fights. Dex could never. His heart didn’t care that it was necessary in this case. Dex fought to make the words come, but Maul beat him to it.

“You’ll have to break it again. I know. When are we doing it?”

That was it. That was his breaking point.

The matter-of-fact explanation and acceptance.

His vision swam, a hand clapped over his mouth, and he left the kitchen, staggered towards the sleeping quarters, where he sat heavily on his bunk.

Dex knew his reaction was all very confusing to Maul but _stars_ , he couldn’t take it anymore. The way this kid anticipated and _accepted_ pain… Dex wanted to fight whoever this master was, but that master wasn’t here, so all he could do was weep.

_“You’re soft in the head.”_

Damn right he was.

Slowly, he became aware of Maul standing next to the bed. Dex swiped his fingers at his eyes to clear them and found a smile to give to the kid, who watched him in utter bewilderment.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Maul. You’re stuck with an old, sentimental sort here, I’m afraid.”

Maul’s bewilderment did not change.

“I just… y’know. I… know it’s the best for ya, getting that arm back together right. But I just really don’t want to hurt you.”

Maul’s bewilderment transformed into thundering shock.

Kriffin hell, Dex was fit to tear this master fellow limb from limb from limb. He fought his anger down with every ounce of his strength and patted next to him on the bed. Maul obediently clambered on, one-armed.

A thousand things Dex wanted to say – lectures about how the way Maul was reacting, how it just wasn’t right what must’ve happened to him – but he settled for a simple, “May I give you a hug?”

Maul’s bewilderment knew no end.

“It’ll help me, having a chance to be gentle with you before I have to break your arm. Doesn’t have to be a long hug.”

Still bewildered.

Dex tried a different explanation, “…a hug is an act of affection, when you use your arms to–”

“I know what a hug is. I’ve read about them.”

Dex saw red.

It slipped out before he had a chance to stop it.

“Your master is a kriffin’ bastard, and I want him dead like nuthin’ else in this galaxy. What kind of nerf fecal looks at a kid like you and decides you ain’t worth even a damn hug. You deserve far better than whatever the hell he deigned to give ya. Were he here right now, I’d rip him apart for makin’ you think you didn’t.”

 _Dammit_.

Dex knew exactly one thing about Master Bastard: kid practically worshipped him. There was no walkin’ this one back. Dex’d lost Maul for sure.

“You haven’t been angry with me?”

Dex’s eyes snapped over to Maul, as wide as they could be. “Angry with you– I… Maul. What gave you an idea like that?”

Maul hadn’t moved from the spot on the bed, but his eyes were focused on the far wall and his voice shrunk away. From the question on, the matter-of-factness vanished, the ever-present anger gone. For the first time, Maul was well and truly just a scared little boy.

“Sometimes when I say things, you’ll get mad. You won’t punish me, at least not immediately,” – Dex’s heart _plummeted._ – “and you’ll find something else to say, but you’re still angry. And I don’t know why.”

Maul paused, then corrected himself, “I didn’t know why.”

He looked up at Dex, and Dex watched him screw up his courage to say, “If it’s okay, I’d prefer to have my punishments sooner. It’s becoming tiring waiting for them.”

Okay. Nope. _This_ was his breaking point.

Dex had just enough self-control to not yank Maul into a bone-crushing embrace – counterproductive and probably startling – but he got off the bed, knelt down, and gently drew Maul in with his upper arms.

It was still startling to the kid – he went perfectly rigid – but Dex left him enough room to wiggle away if he wanted.

 _If he knows he’s allowed to_.

At the thought, Dex pulled back. Took a few shuddering breaths.

“Kid, Maul, buddy…”

Maul was staring at him, wide-eyed, so it wasn’t necessary, but Dex did it anyway: he gently nudged a knuckle under Maul’s chin and let the tip of his thumb rest atop.

“…I ain’t in the business of punishing anyone, least of all my little buddy here.”

Really hoping Maul was catching onto the emotions he was sending now. He had to understand more than anger. …right? Dex stared back, begging that those brown eyes see things the way Maz and her goggles could.

“ ‘Buddy,’ “ the kid began haltingly, “is a synonym for ‘friend.’ I’ve… I’ve read about them too. Thought I had one.”

Maul broke eye contact and cast a scowl to the ground. Dex released his chin and let him.

“He lied to me," Maul spat out. "Then he broke my arm.”

Scowl was now thrown to Dex, eyes flashing gold. But there were shades of the natural brown at the edges, lacing fury with desperation. “Are you going to lie to me too?”

Stars. How to even answer a question like that?

Dex pulled at his face, exhaustion like the day they were laid out in front of the airlock threatened to claim him. He fought that back down and rose, “Come with me a moment, Maul.”

Together, they walked the hallway towards the cockpit, and Dex realized how familiar the little steps padding along next to his own heavy steps had already become. How much he wanted to hear that sound every day, how much he wanted to hear that little pace grow into the petulant stomps of an adolescent and the confident stride of an adult.

_“Soft in–” Yeah, shut up, Maz._

As Dex settled into the pilot seat, he patted the co-pilot chair, and Maul obliged.

“Ya asked me if I was a liar, but a liar would tell you ‘no,’ just as easily as an honest fella. So tell me, kid. Whaddya see out that cockpit viewport?”

“Mustafar.”

“Yup. And the only reason you can still see it is because I made a buddy of mine a promise. Even though what I wanted most was to take my buddy the hell out of here and… honestly? Are you listenin’ to me, Maul? _Honestly_ , the more I hear of this bastard, the harder and harder it’s getting to keep that promise. The thought of sending you back there… breaks me to pieces.”

Dex took a deep breath before continuing, “Now… if…” – no, that weren't the right way to start – “I made a promise, kid, and I aim to keep it. ‘Specially since it means that much to you. So if going back is still what you want; I ain’t sending you back alone. I’m going with you.”

Maul stilled at that.

“But,” Dex continued, “if you want – you’n’I could be off from here in an instant. Just say the word, and kid, I’ll show you all the things you’ve only read about. I’ll make sure you never go hungry, and I’ll never give you a reason to be afraid of me.”

Maul still stared out the cockpit view, but Dex could tell his eyes had shifted from the planet to the stars. Heard his breath catch. Just a little.

“Just say the word,” Dex repeated, “and you’ll never have to see that bastard again. I promise.”

“Running away,” Maul spat without venom, “is weak. I am not weak.”

“No kid, you ain’t. And I reckon you’d put anyone who tried to assert that in their place right quick. But leaving a bastard – or three – behind doesn’t make you weak. I don’t gotta prove anything to my old miner partners down there, and you don’t gotta prove anything to that master of yours. Some opinions just ain’t worth your time.”

Silence.

Dex rose, suppressing the sigh building in his chest. “Think it over, buddy. I’ll back with the medkit to reset your arm in a few minutes.”

When Dex returned, they reset the arm in silence, aside from a soft “Good job, kid. You did good,” as Dex rebound the arm and carried Maul to bed.

Tucked in, the kid’s breaths evenly carried the blanket up and down. Dex allowed himself a moment longer before leaving the kid to rest, resting one large hand gently on a small shoulder.

“Maul. No matter what you decide, I’ll be there. I promise.”


	3. An Extraordinary Boy’s Decision

Clever.

Remarkable.

Special.

Compliments always followed by punishment.

Master Sidious had declared Maul an extraordinary boy before he ordered the droid Deenine to strand Maul in the Mustafar wastes.

Maul had thought Deenine was his friend. The droid had apologized for hurting him during a training exercise and told him to put on a clean shirt after they had cleaned up the blood. Told Maul that hurting him was an accident.

But then Deenine had told Master Sidious that _that_ was a lie; the droid had struck Maul on purpose as a lesson. Master Sidious told Maul to repeat the exercise and Deenine struck Maul on purpose again, breaking his arm before the droid had dumped him, unconscious, on a Mustafarian slope. Left to find his way back alone. Another test to see if he was worthy to belong to his Master.

Maul didn't have a means to track time, so he could not know this, but he had been surviving in the wastes for a week and a half before he had met the mining crew.

Clever.

Fearsome.

Stubborn.

Compliments always with a smile.

Dex called Maul his buddy. The besalisk was always apologizing for Maul being hurt, even when he wasn’t the one who hurt Maul to begin with. Was always cleaning up blood from wounds that Maul reopened. Every time Maul fell unconscious, he never woke alone; even if Dex wasn’t in the room, he was quick to respond to Maul’s movement. Dex was always honest.

It was all…

Very confusing.

The way Dex talked about his heart, about how it would hurt him for Maul to be harmed.

Sounded like compassion. Which was a weakness. Master Sidious told him so.

When Master Sidious called Maul an extraordinary boy, he meant that Maul didn’t question the harshness of his training. He meant that Maul was extraordinary because he was able to understand how important all the broken bones, all the shocks, all the punishments were. To call all of that into question was weak.

Maul wasn’t weak.

Maul was extraordinary.

And yet, it was Dex and his oft-mentioned heart that outlasted Maul’s strength, that outlasted even the Force, every time.

And when Dex had outlasted him, he was… not harsh. Gentle. That was the antonym. Maul had fallen asleep and woken up in the crook of an arm, tucked into a warm bed, and softly reassured in a graveled voice. Things that someone weak would be given, and yet, in spite of his actions, Dex still held that Maul was a fearsome fellow.

It was all very confusing. And Maul… well… he didn’t trust it enough to like it. But he didn’t distrust it either. Dex wasn’t Deenine, after all.

Deenine talked in careful reverence about Master Sidious. Dex didn’t seem scared of him at all.

_“Your master is a kriffin’ bastard, and I want him dead like nuthin’ else in this galaxy. What kind of nerf fecal looks at a kid like you and decides you ain’t worth even a damn hug. You deserve far better than whatever the hell he deigned to give ya. Were he here right now, I’d rip him apart for makin’ you think you didn’t.”_

That sounded like compassion, but it didn’t sound weak. It sounded fearsome. But Master Sidious, the most fearsome person Maul ever knew, never sounded like that.

_“Say the word, and you’ll never have to see that bastard again.”_

But Maul _did_ want to see his Master again. He wanted to prove that he was worthy of every compliment Master Sidious ever said. He wanted to prove he was extraordinary.

But Dex wouldn’t let him go alone.

And Dex wouldn’t approve of Master Sidious’ training.

And Dex wouldn’t stay quiet.

And Master Sidious would kill him.

Because Master Sidious simply was more fearsome than Dex.

And that was it.

More than wanting his Master’s approval. More than wanting revenge on Deenine. More than even just wanting someone who wouldn’t punish him or lie to him.

Maul didn’t want Dex to die.

Hmph.

Felt like compassion.

Master Sidious said that was a weakness. Which was true. Maybe. Dex made everything confusing. Maybe that’s why Maul… didn’t want Dex to die.

And if Maul went back to Master Sidious, Dex would die.

Maul lay awake in the bunk, his arm newly reset, considering all these thoughts carefully. And even though he wanted it all so fiercely, he would give up being remarkable, special, and extraordinary (at least he got to keep “clever”), to keep Dex alive. Maybe that’s what being friends was like. He always did want a friend.

Maul sat up and slid from the bed. He sensed Dex was in the cockpit (and he had heard the besalisk walk that way after leaving the bedroom, an hour or so back, and had not returned).

At the cockpit’s threshold, he saw Dex hunched over in the pilot chair. His lower arms drooping, one upper arm holding up his head by the front of his crest, the other dangling across his knees. Breathing was slow and sometimes shuddered going in and out. Maybe he knew that Maul going back would kill him.

No – at least not in the way that it would actually kill him. Dex was tired and sad about Maul being hurt. Again, confusing. Or was it? After all, Maul also felt unhappy when he thought about Dex being hurt. Even confusion was confusing. But he could live with it as long as Dex lived too.

He shuffled to make a small noise on the threshold.

Dex immediately straightened and turned to look at Maul.

“Hey buddy,” he said with a smile, but he looked scared. Maul suddenly missed his anger. He almost wanted to quote Master Sidious to get him angry, but no. Right now that would probably make Dex even more sad.

Maul realized he didn’t know what to say. Dex said to _“just say the word,”_ but what word was that? And then they would be off, but –

“Where would we be off to?” Maul asked.

He saw what he would later know as “hope” spark carefully in Dex’s eyes.

“We have the whole galaxy ahead of us,” Dex said softly, as if he might scare Maul back to Master Sidious. “Where would you want to go?”

“Anywhere you went. …is that the right word to say?”

Dex got out of the pilot chair in the same measured way that he knelt in front of Maul during their first fight next to the airlock, in the same measured way that he gave Maul his first hug only a couple of hours back. So Maul knew what was coming and wasn’t startled by the arms that encircled him.

It was still confusing, but Maul allowed himself to trust it enough to like it.


	4. A Charming Conversation

Maul thought it was lousy.

Dex told Maul to stay close, but the merchant Dex was talking to was boring. Maul wanted to see the merchant across the street, where colors danced across glass and ribbons rippled through the air. Things Master Sidious never showed him. Dex promised he would show Maul these things, but he was still arguing with the boring merchant.

So Maul disobeyed.

* * *

Dex was at the end of his rope.

He didn’t realize getting blacklisted from the Mining Guild would blacklist him from every reputable spacer job. Dex was no stranger to the underworld. He knew how to skirt the law with ease, as a smuggler, as an underground brawler, as a pirate on Maz’s ship. But he had a kid to take care of now.

Dex couldn’t risk making runs anymore. Couldn't risk getting arrested and being forced to abandon Maul. He needed a legal job. And for the past three weeks, he’d been turned down on-sight.

At first, Dex had thought it was due to his abandoning the Guild’s job on Mustafar. After all, the oil platforms on Sub Terrel did have contracts with some of the same equipment providers. But then there were no openings at Fondor’s construction shipyards, no openings for shuttle pilots on Iego, and now there wasn’t any demand for furbog traders? Seriously? Mining Guild influence didn’t go that far.

It wasn’t this clerk’s fault. Really.

But Dex was exhausted.

Exhausted.

The ship’s starboard engine turned out to have lasting damage from the Mustafar heat.

Each hyperspace jump put more strain on the patchwork fix.

Each landing belching more smoke.

Their kitchenette had enough food for them both to eat another two meals.

That was one promise of Dex’s on the brink of being broken.

He had to pinch his credit chips just to make sure he could get a docking hangar at a port.

He needed to get a docking hangar so that he could find a job.

So that he could get paid.

So that he could keep his promises to Maul

So no, it wasn’t the clerk’s fault, but dammit, Dex was gonna get answers. And by the way the clerk wilted under the besalisk’s glare, he knew it too.

“It’s late in the harvest season, and furbog value depreciates exponentially in the last third, which we are in. So traders drop out of the game, every year. This year, you have a seventy-percent drop from how many traders were making runs for the farmers at the beginning of the season. And, based on past annual numbers, fifty-five-percent of farmers are having their remaining crops go to rot because the traders simply aren’t coming. And _you_ want to tell _me_ that there’s not a demand for more pilots?”

Dex straightened and folded his arms, throat pouch bellying, as he looked down his crest ridge at the clerk. Still wilted worse than overripe furbogs, the clerk stammered a response.

“R-right. Let me, uh, let me see what I can find,” the clerk nervously poked at his datapad. “I… uh, I need to uh… get a different datapad. Back room.”

As the clerk vanished from the desk, Dex’s mouth flattened. The clerk had taken his comm with him. Something was piecing together. His inability to find a job. The clerk, his nerves, and his comm.

Dex idly cast his eyes about the room, cast his mind back through his memories, trying to find the last clue that-

Maul was gone.

The clerk vanished from Dex’s mind. The furbog statistics. The job. The answers at the edge of his fingertips.

Maul was gone.

Dex bolted out from the lobby to the street, but the continuous mass of bodies and vehicles blocked any hope of seeing a small child among them.

_Maul was gone._

* * *

It was explosive when Dex found him.

Maul didn’t flinch. He _never_ flinched.

But he was startled when the eruption came.

“Don’t you _ever_ run off like that again!”

Maul’s gaze snapped up from the colored glass vase, eyes wide. He found Dex fuming above him. And Maul realized that – for the first time – that anger was directed at him. And he was afraid.

In being afraid, he realized that was one promise of Dex’s broken. He didn’t like how that felt. It made him angry.

As Maul stared at him, he watched Dex’s anger melt. Maul’s fear left with it, but his anger still stayed. Dex had _promised_.

Dex knelt next to Maul and softly said, “That really scared me. I thought I lost you.”

What nonsense. He could take care of himself. He could find his way back to Dex. And Dex knew these things. And yet he still got angry and made Maul afraid.

Maul turned away from Dex and looked back at the glass vase, but he didn’t enjoy it anymore.

* * *

Dex had seen the fear in Maul’s eyes when he shouted. So much for a promise being merely on the brink of breaking. Dex knew he couldn’t let that sort of outburst happen from him again.

So he knelt next to Maul and spoke softly. Maul ignored him. Dex tried to turn the conversation to the vase.

“You’ve got a good eye, kid. This is Ithorian glass. You can tell by –” with one hand, Dex went to point out the feature, while reaching out with another to pull Maul into a side-hug. Maul stepped out of reach and stopped looking at the glass.

That was fair.

If only they could take time to blow off steam here, smooth things out between them. But the docking hangar had an hourly limit. And now that Dex had found Maul, the pieces he had been putting together in the clerk’s office were coming back, and they formed just enough of a picture to present unease. It was time to go.

Dex informed Maul of this, and the boy nodded. Dex held out a hand, but Maul didn’t take it.

Dex sighed.

“Maul, I’m sorry I scared you. But I was scared too. These crowds are big, and I need you to hold my hand to stay close.”

With a glare, Maul walked towards Dex, and then past him. At least it was in the direction of the hangars. Dex rose and took long strides to catch up, but when he did, Maul danced away, vanishing into the crowd.

Panic gripped Dex again, until he saw Maul deliberately step into view up ahead.

Dex caught up, and the dance started again. And again. And again.

In this manner, they made their way to the docking hangar, Dex’s nerves shot to hell by the end of it, and Maul’s attitude barely sated.

For a long time, Dex did not trust himself to speak. He wasn’t angry (he was a little angry), but he was exhausted. And he’d be damned if he let loose another outburst _at_ Maul.

It wasn’t until they were well into hyperspace that Dex took a breath and turned to Maul, who sat in the copilot seat.

“We’re going to Athus Klee. It’s an Outer Rim world, a place where contract work gets posted regularly. I should be able to get work there easily. But I need you to help me out with this, Maul.”

Maul didn’t look at him, but the tilt of his head said he was listening.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but there’s always going to be a part of me that’s worrying about where you are. So when I’m looking for a job, I need you to stay next to me. I need to know that you’re safe.”

“If you know that I can take care of myself, then you should always know that I am safe.”

Dex gave a wry chuckle, “Nice logic. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Then tell your brain to do things different.”

That honestly would have been hilarious if Dex hadn’t been so tired. Maul was a smart kid, and Dex was amazed by the conversations he could have with him. But he was still a kid. And it looked like this kid did not want to be reasoned with.

“That’s not how this works,” Dex repeated. “And right now, I need to choose priorities. Like getting us more food or fixing this ship.”

As if on-cue, they exited hyperspace with a belch of short-lived flames from the starboard engine.

“And to get more food or fix this ship, I need to make getting a job my priority. But I can’t make that my priority if I’m worrying about you. So I can’t have you running off like that. At least not now.”

Maul turned fully away from him.

Comm chatter broke through the silence. Dex went to work securing a hangar for them, and when the conversation ended, he prompted Maul with a question.

“Did you listen to what I’ve told you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand what I’ve told you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to hold my hand?”

* * *

Maul looked outside the cockpit as they landed. Saw the green of the jungle, the colors of the port, all beyond the walls of the hangar.

He thought about lying.

If he lied, Dex would take him there, and Maul could slip out of his hand to see everything. And – after all – Dex had lied to him. He promised he would never make Maul afraid of him, and yet he did.

A lie for a lie. Only seemed fair.

But Maul hadn’t been raised to lie. So he said, “No.”

* * *

A gust of a sigh left Dex. He pulled at his face, exhausted.

“Very well. I am going into port, but you are staying here. Don’t use the comm or leave the ship. You’re grounded. Do you know what that means?”

“I’ve read about it,” Maul snapped, throwing the words at him.

Stars knew how he did it, but Dex kept his face stern even as the phrase plunged through his heart. He steeled himself against the desire to relent.

“Alright then,” Dex said – far too gruffly, he regretted it immediately – “I expect you to follow that. I’ll be back later.”

“Fine.” Maul turned away in a sulk, his small body folding in on itself.

For a moment, Dex thought the boy was going to cry, and then realized he should have known better. Maul never cried. Still, he waited. If Maul did cry, Dex didn’t want him to be alone.

The silence stretched, until Dex couldn’t pretend any longer. Crying or no, he just simply did not _want_ to leave Maul behind. Nevertheless, he made his way out of the cockpit as he said, “If I’m not back by dinner, make sure to eat.”

* * *

Something twisted in Maul’s gut as he watched Dex walk away through the cockpit viewport. It knotted unbearably as the hangar doors shut behind the besalisk. A shadow cast over Maul, matching the shadow of an incoming ship as it made its way to another hangar.

Maul nestled his face into his forearms, where they rested atop his knees. A pressure built in his chest, but he learned long ago that crying never helped. It only made things worse. So he simply sat and tried to work his misery into more anger. Anger hurt less.

Maul had built up a significant store of frustration when the comm blipped. He looked up and immediately decided to disobey again.

He jabbed the comm on, and an old alien began scolding away well before she looked up at the hologram.

“Do you _realize_ what sort of trouble you’re– not Dex.”

Maul held back a smirk at her confusion.

She peered at him, then leaned back, goggles exaggerating the whites of her eyes, “… _Oh_.”

* * *

It was the least stable job Dex could possibly get – a stall owner was paying him just to unload the last of her merchandise of various pottery pieces from across the galaxy – but it was a job. Any credits were good credits. And walking the open air between her ship and her stall, without wildly checking to see if Maul was okay, was a relief that Dex was ashamed to admit.

The way the kid was enthralled with the colors of the Ithorian vase, he would have been all over the place here, finding new shades at every turn. Which was the problem.

Dex huffed at himself in frustration.

Why did something that brought Maul such joy have to be such a stress for Dex? Why couldn’t he find a job _and_ let Maul be a kid?

Speaking of admiring colors, as he approached the pottery stall, Dex caught the sight of ginger hair on a human, who himself was in-turn admiring the shade of a hand-made mug.

“I’ve always wanted a Ky Oya piece,” he was telling the stall owner.

Dex vaguely remembered seeing the ginger-haired man arriving with a group on a newly-landed ship. Jedi, by the looks of ‘em. And this man was not bad to look at either.

“Hrm. Not that one,” Dex grumbled as he passed behind them. The customer whirled to keep track of Dex’s movements.

“Oh, hello there.” There was a pleasant Core lilt to the man’s accent. Fit really nicely with the ginger hair.

“That’s a replica,” Dex indicated the item in the man’s hand. “The little flair at the handle’s end is too wide for a Ky Oya piece. Now this isn’t a bad mug by any stretch, and it _is_ a practical piece for sure. Well worth your money. But if yer looking as a collector then– ”

The customer may have been regarding him with awe, but the stall’s owner was regarding him with a glare.

And there went another job prospect. At least this one he knew why.

With a sigh, Dex set down his crate and held out his hand for the paltry pay he’d earned. A few grudging credits richer, he retreated from the stall, and made for an alleyway about half a block down. A place to slip out of the crowd to recollect his thoughts and recall what other employment places he knew on Athus Klee.

“Now, to what do I owe that daring rescue?”

Dex blinked in confusion as he realized the customer from the stall had followed him to the alley.

Owe? Briefly, the thought of monetary compensation crossed Dex’s mind. Something to tide him and Maul over, at least to get to Takodana. But no, the credits he just earned, he could make it stretch long enough to reach Maz.

He realized the man was actually waiting for an answer and had been watching Dex ponder away. Oh why the hell not. The man was attractive enough. Lean into it.

Dex drummed three fingers on his throat pouch, “Hmm, that depends.”

“Depends on what?”

The man seemed so sincerely eager. Dex dropped a rakish grin and joked, “How big’s yer pocketbook?”

A laugh was startled out of the man. Dex found his grin softening into a genuine smile.

“Ah no,” Dex waved a hand and settled against the wall of the alley, “A fine set of manners is repayment enough. Unless you can make me a job offer for somethin’. I’m afraid I lost my last employment being a dashing hero.”

Chuckling, the man’s gaze flickered about the Dex’s features, before lingering on his eyes. A gentle smile tugged at a corner of the man’s mouth, softly crinkling his eyes, pleased – maybe? – with what he saw.

Honestly, Dex couldn’t understand why; he’d seen himself in the shop windows. A harried and haggard look, clothes clean but horribly wrinkled and permanently stained. Still, he allowed himself to enjoy the attention.

“Why, I think I have a few connections with the Banking Clan," the man said. "Their clerks need sharp eyes like yours to catch counterfeits.”

Not expecting a follow-through at all, Dex’s heart leapt. But his joy was short-lived. While the position was sure to be stable, Banking Clan clerks did not get time to travel, and Dex already had so many broken promises piling up.

“I don’t think I can convey how thankful I am,” Dex said. “But I promised my kid that I’d show him the galaxy. I can’t let him down.”

“A child!” the man sounded absolutely charmed, “Why, where is your child now? Why isn’t he here with you? Seeing these delightful sites?”

The shame built in Dex again.

“I… grounded him,” Dex said. And maybe it was this man’s open sincerity, his clear interest, or just the fact that Dex hadn’t had a proper conversation with a fellow adult in weeks. Whichever reason, it broke the dam, and the rest just came out. “I grounded him and I’m having doubts about being a good guardian because of that. Did I ground him to protect him? He’s… Well, he’s a solid kid. Maybe I grounded him because _I_ needed it? That’s not right, is it?”

The man clicked his tongue in sympathy but said nothing more, treating Dex’s question as rhetorical.

“And it ain’t just the grounding,” Dex continued, hoping to prompt advice from this man. “I made… I made so many promises to him. And I tried, I am tryin’, to keep them all. But how’s the kid supposed to feel safe when I _can’t_ keep them? So quickly, I’ve already made so many mistakes. How can I possibly be what he needs?”

* * *

“Oh Dexi Jet,” the old alien sing-songed in a murmer. She cocked her head at Maul, “Found you on Mustafar, did he? Now, now hold on. Settle down, kiddo. Don’t bare your teeth at me; you can’t bite me through the comm, and I mean no harm. I am Maz.”

Maul’s snarl faded, just a little. “Kanata?”

He’d heard Dex say that name before, usually in a pleased tone.

“The very same.”

Safety assured, Maul fell back into the copilot seat, swiveling disinterestedly. “Dex mentioned you.”

Kanata watched him for a moment, brow cocked, “You don’t seem interested in talking to me.”

“No.”

“Then why did you answer the comm?”

“Dex told me not to. I’m _grounded_.”

Kanata chuckled and gave Maul a conspiratorial wink. He liked that.

“Well, good for him. And good for you.”

What?

“What?”

Kanata chuckled again, “Force knows that Dexi is notoriously soft, so I’m glad he has enough backbone to ground you.”

Maul scowled at Kanata. Dex had plenty of backbone. Maul didn’t like Kanata insulting Dex like that. He also didn’t like that she approved of his grounding.

“But also,” Kanata continued, “you clearly feel safe enough with him to engage in a little bit of rebellion.”

“No, I don’t,” Maul snapped.

“…You don’t?”

“He shouted at me. He scared me.”

“Oh,” her voice was fully of sympathy, then concern. “Will he shout at you again if he finds out you answered the comm?”

That gave Maul pause. Maybe Dex would shout at him, but Maul somehow knew that was _all_ he would do.

Maul thought of every way Master Sidious had ever punished him, of every way Master Sidious would have Deenine punish him. He remembered the broken bones, the burning lightning, the days without food, the Mustafarian wasteland, the swarm of dinkos.

The dinkos were simply because Maul had once flinched.

Maul swiveled his chair to look out of the cockpit door to the rest of the ship.

There were no dinkos here.

He was allowed to eat, no matter how little food they had. He could read any of the holotexts, or nap on any cushioned surface. He had windows to see the sunlight. And when Dex got home, Maul knew that there wouldn’t be any surprise punishments.

It was still lousy though, the reason that he was grounded. And Dex had still broke his promise.

When he turned back, Kanata was peering at him again. She fidgeted with her goggles, and it did… something… to her eyes. It made them bigger. But also there was…. _something_ … in the Force. It made him uncomfortable.

“Do you want me to stay on the comm until he comes back, so I can tell him not to shout at you?”

What a strange offer. It sounded a lot like how Dex offered to go with him to Master Sidious.

“Do you think he’ll shout at me again?” Maul asked.

Kanata thought about it. “Has he apologized?”

“Yes.”

“Then I know he will work very hard to not shout at you again. Do you still want me to wait on the comm?”

Maul didn’t know how to answer that. So he didn’t. But he didn’t shut the comm off either.

On the other end, Kanata waited, and Maul felt like he needed to say _something_ to her at least.

“I didn’t hold his hand in a crowd,” Maul told her. “I don’t need to do that. I shouldn’t be grounded.”

“Why do you think Dex grounded you?”

Didn’t she hear what he just said?

“Was he happy that he grounded you?”

Oh.

“No,” Maul said.

“Did he ground you because he likes to be obeyed?”

 _Yes_ , Maul almost said. But it wasn’t Dex’s face he saw in his mind. He shook Master Sidious away, and Kanata took the shake as his answer.

“So why do you think Dex grounded you?”

Maul continued shaking his head. How was he supposed to know something like that? All he knew was that “I don’t want to be grounded. I want to see the port. I want to eat at the shops. Dex told me that he would take me to see the galaxy,” Maul’s voice began to raise in frustration, “then he grounded me and left me behind, while he’s out there enjoying the port without me, and I hate him. But I still don’t want Dex to die.”

Kanata’s amusement seemed to grow throughout his rant, until the last sentence plunged her into confusion. “…What?”

Maul scowled again, this time at himself. He never said that out loud before. He didn’t mean to say it out loud this time either.

He didn’t know how to make the words fit properly.

But he tried.

“I don’t want Dex to die. And the more he does kind things, the more I don’t want him to die. But even when he does things I don’t like, that doesn’t make me not want him to die any less.”

Kanata’s eyes flickered for a moment, trying to follow the thought. Then they softened. Maul was not ready for that. He was only ever used to Dex looking at him with… that thing that was more than kindness.

“Dear child, I believe that is called love.”

Maul had read about love. It was kind of like compassion. But he didn’t say that out loud. Dex had just stopped reacting with horror every time Maul said he read about something. He didn’t want to go through the same thing with Kanata.

Instead, he asked, “Like family?”

And then he was confused as to why that was his question. And confused as to why the question made him feel scared.

Lifting her goggles, Kanata looked at him through unfiltered eyes. They were small, beady, and reminded Maul a little of Dex’s. She was smiling again.

“Is that what you want?”

 _Yes_ , Maul almost said. But the thought still scared him, so Maul changed the topic to something less frightening.

* * *

The man stepped into the alley to let a group pass behind him, but once the way was clear, he didn’t step back. He stayed close, a comforting presence. A light touch, to the inside of an elbow. Fingers slowly tracing reassuring circles, as the man softly scolded Dex, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You sound exactly like the type of man I’d look for.”

Somehow, that was all Dex needed to hear. Tears of relief, desperation, and exhaustion sprang to his eyes. He lifted a hand to cover his eyes, and the man paused his tracing of those gentle circles in his other arm.

"Please let me help you and your boy," the man said. He took Dex’s hand and lowered it from his face. The man’s other hand reached out to wipe the tears from the corner of an eye. "Consider it repayment for your rescuing tendencies."

Dex could kiss him. He wouldn't, at least not now, but he _could_. A lifeline had been thrown to them.

Dex smiled through his tears and took a breath to thank the man.

* * *

“You said Dex was in trouble?”

Kanata sighed, but accepted the change in topic.

“Yes, I was surprised that I could trace him so easily. I figured he would have known about it, but… well… it seems he is preoccupied with a disobedient zabrak.” Kanata's smile was warm. Maul knew she wasn’t scolding him, and he knew she liked him. He decided he liked her too.

“What kind of trouble?”

There was a pause. She pulled her goggles down, and they did something to her eyes again. Maul decided he did not like her goggles, but he sat and waited. He had sat through worse for Master Sidious, and Kanata wasn’t going to hurt him or Dex.

Finally, she sat back with a sigh. “Well, I can see that you’re no stranger to tribulations, so I think you can handle this news.”

Maul straightened a little at the praise.

“There’s a warrant. A warrant and a bounty out on Dex.”

Maul straightened to full alert.

“The Mining Guild is claiming he murdered the three other miners that went to Mustafar with him. After he abandoned the job, they tried to track him into orbit. And they never reported back. An investigation committee was able to locate and identify the remains of their ship. And their bodies.”

“How did they die?”

It was Kanata’s turn to straighten. She peered at Maul again.

“So it wasn’t Dex.”

“Of course not.”

“Of course. But… you do know who it was.”

Know?

Did Maul know?

Or was it just his fear?

“Child?”

No.

He _did_ know.

He could feel it in the Force, cast like a shadow.

He could feel _him_.

“Child! Who was it?”

Dex trusted Kanata. She could help them.

Maul leaned in towards the hologram, just in time to watch Maz Kanata erupt into flames.

The shock froze Maul. It took him precious seconds to realize that it was the dash that was burning from blaster fire. Kanata was safe.

Maul was not.

A familiar voice from behind.

A familiar clanking.

“Maul. Master Sidious is most displeased with you.”

* * *

The man spoke before Dex could, an undercurrent of authority grasping at Dex’s mind and his will.

“Bring me Maul.”


	5. A Correct Response

Maul's reflexes had saved him many times in the past. They would have saved his life now, if the droid Deenine had gone for the kill. But no, the blaster had folded itself back into Deenine’s arm. Maul was to be taken alive then.

If Maul could be taken, that is.

Deenine was no stranger to him. The six-legged droid had been his caretaker, his sparring opponent and an ever-present threat. And Maul had long since learned not to trust the droid; he would not be caught off-guard again.

There wasn’t an arsenal on the ship, not like there was in the Mustafar training facility. But Maul could improvise. Already some well-aimed engine tools had cracked against Deenine’s joints. Maul could see how they caused the droid to stagger. And of course, Maul always had the Force.

Through the ship, he evaded Deenine’s capture, luring and driving the droid onwards, back to the cargo bay. Maul saw the ramp was lowered, the door open, from Deenine’s forced entry. Set-up nicely for his forced exit.

Maul grinned, even as he slipped around Deenine’s latest pounce. The droid landed and took a moment to chastise Maul.

“You cannot keep this up forever.”

“I can keep it up for long enough,” Maul snarled.

“You mean until the besalisk returns?” Deenine almost sounded apologetic. It had been how Deenine had sounded when the droid had betrayed Maul and broke his arm.

Anger swelled. But not fear.

Dex was not Deenine.

Dex would come home and then Maul would be safe.

So Maul took his anger and let it flow into the Force. He flipped between the droid’s grasping arms, and when he landed, he would throw Deenine down the cargo bay ramp.

“Master Sidious has completed business with the besalisk to secure your return.”

Everything in Maul locked.

He barely saw or felt Deenine’s next strike, catching him in midair. Barely felt his own landing on the ramp. Or the topple his body took to the dirt below. Barely registered that Deenine had picked him up and was carrying him away.

He could barely feel anything except for the pain shoving outward from his chest, threatening to shatter everything.

Dex was not Deenine.

Dex would come home.

Dex had _promised_.

Dex had lied.

* * *

Dex had a hell of a right hook.

The man crumpled to the ground. Somehow still conscious, but whatever trick he tried to pull on Dex’s mind slipped away as he snapped a glare up at the besalisk. For his part, Dex didn’t need to see the eyes flash gold, didn’t need to recognize Maul’s snarl across this man’s – this _bastard’s_ – face to _know_.

Later, there would be time for shame in how close Dex had been to losing everything to this man. Now? Now, there was time to make the bastard pay.

The man began to rise, and Dex used two fists to drive him back to the ground, a swell of satisfaction building. If he could make this bastard suffer even a fraction of what Maul had suffered… Dex honestly didn’t care how far that thought would take him.

Resilient for a human, the bastard rose again, but only halfway before he stretched out a pitiful arm towards the main street, letting loose a plaintive cry, “Master Jedi, please!”

 _Kriff_. Dex had forgotten.

Sure enough, three Jedi were forcing their way through the crowd towards them.

One called out, “Senator Palpatine! We’re coming!”

Another, “Hold it right there!”

The third, “That’s the besalisk! The one the Mining Guild wants for murder!”

 _Murder?_ Dex’s eyes darted down to the bastard, Palpatine, who had the nerve to flicker a smile before crying out again for the Jedi’s help.

Damn him.

Only one thing for it.

Dex turned down the alley and ran.

* * *

He should have known.

Maul was a clever boy – Master Sidious told him so – and he _should have known_.

The way his Master’s praise was always followed by punishment.

The way Deenine’s friendship had turned to betrayal.

The way that Master Sidious waited to trap him with the swarm of dinkos until after Maul had forgotten why he was even being punished to begin with.

Of course, Dex had been a test too. It didn’t matter how long the kindness had lasted; how close Maul had come to forgetting all his lessons.

Maul should have known.

He remained limp in Deenine’s arms, turned inward, staring at the droid’s chassis. He still felt strength in his limbs, the air in his lungs still fresh, but with the pain in his chest, it was easier to just be limp. To wait for and be carried to his punishment quietly.

A small part of him managed to be glad that he hadn’t been there when Dex betrayed him. That he wouldn’t see Dex ever again. He had told Kanata that he hated Dex for grounding him, but now he knew that wasn’t true. He had just been angry at Dex.

He hated Master Sidious. He hated Deenine. And if he saw Dex again now, Maul would truly hate him too. And he didn’t want to hate Dex. It would hurt too much.

Deenine paused at the exit door of the hangar and looked down at Maul, “It is good you are being cooperative. I do not think it will lessen Master Sidious’ discipline any, but at least you are already learning your lesson, and can avoid a repeat of said discipline.”

Maul didn’t answer.

Deenine reached out a limb and toggled the door open.

Deenine flinched.

Maul felt the doid recoil, but not quick enough. A massive hand caught Maul’s torso, scooping him out of the droid’s grasp. Another hand cut sharply into view, seizing Deenine’s head and hurling the droid into the hangar wall.

Still limp, but newly confused, Maul found himself cradled against a different being.

Something – hope, though he still did not know its name – sprang to life. But fearfully, the pain in his chest shoved it down.

Maul was moving again, being carried swiftly back towards the ship, and that little thing called hope kept trying to come alive, but Maul could not allow himself to believe it. Not even when he and his carrier were tackled from behind, and he was sent rolling away, where he could see Deenine grappling with a furious besalisk.

A hopeful sight.

But Maul was a quick learner.

He knew better now.

And so he felt nothing when he saw the regal form stride casually into the hangar and felt the shadow cast its presence into his mind.

* * *

Two arms and six damn legs. That was cheating.

A _click_ and a _whirr_ and was that a damn blaster in the droid’s arm?

Cheating.

Well, Dex could play dirty too.

He took jabs from five of the legs and deep tear from the droid’s free arm, but sure enough, with a twist from three of his hands, Dex ripped the blaster from the droid. He lost a hold of it almost immediately – again, too many limbs – and it tumbled across the dirt, towards where Maul laid.

The boy was still, unmoved from where he had landed when the droid hauled Dex over backwards, sending all three toppling away from the ship. On the short glimpses he could catch of the boy, between the metallic jabs and strikes, Dex could see a numbness in his eyes.

It broke his heart, but Dex didn’t have the luxury of tears.

What he did have was the luxury of rage.

The next time the droid was thrown against the hangar wall, it was with legs too mangled to hold its weight, leaving it to sit and watch as Dex ran towards Maul.

It wasn’t until Dex knelt and reached out to the boy that Dex realized two things.

One: his hands were bloody, red contrasting with the blue of his tattoos and the white of three knuckle bones, bared in protest of punching metal.

Two: he was not the last person to enter the hangar.

Maul’s eyes flicked to the space behind Dex. Even before he turned, Dex’s gut told him that Maul was not looking at the ship. But someone else was.

A tongue clicked in sympathy, “No wonder you needed employment, dear Dexter. Have you truly been carting my student about in this… patchwork?”

“‘Student’ is one hell of a generous term for what you’ve done to him,” the growl rumbled out from deep in Dex’s throat pouch. His legs quivered where they were still crouched next to Maul. Dex was loathe to leave the boy’s side, but everything in him itched for a fight.

“Would you prefer I call him my ‘child’? My ‘son,’ perhaps?”

“Get away from our ship, or I’ll put you into the ground again. And this time you won’t get up.”

“You’ve lost your charm,” Palpatine sighed, turning to flick his gaze over Dex again. “Such a shame. I was truly enjoying our earlier conversation.”

“Try to treasure the memory ,” Dex sneered. Unwilling to take his eyes off Palpatine, Dex extended a hand to Maul. “We’re leaving.”

There was no movement from the boy, and Palpatine chuckled.

“I don’t think Maul _wants_ to go with you. After all, how can you possibly be what he needs?”

Dex bared his teeth, an argument ready to snarl forth, but the bastard went on.

“Can you promise him a meal tomorrow? Can you promise him a home that functions? Can you promise to show him every place in the galaxy, even as you lock him in the ship?”

“That’s not –”

“You punished him for the simplest thing. And yet you dare to think _me_ a bastard for holding him to the same discipline.”

“ _We are not the same!_ ” For all his failures, for all his shame, Dex at least understood that. He clung to it. 

“I don’t think Maul sees a difference.”

The dirt stirred next to Dex. In his peripherals, he saw Maul push to his feet.

“Such a resilient boy,” Palpatine remarked. “Aren’t you, Maul?”

“Yes,” the boy said.

A scowl bloomed on Palpatine’ face. “That is not the correct response.”

“Yes, Master Sidious.”

And the scowl was gone. A smile, instead. And with that smile, Dex felt like he lost everything.

“Good. I was worried that you had forgotten your lessons.”

“No, Master Sidious.”

Dex couldn’t find the breath to speak, to interrupt, to do _something_.

“Have I ever broken a promise to you, Maul? Ever lied to you?” Palpatine – no, Sidious – was saying.

“No, Master Sidious.”

“Has Dexter kept all his promises?”

“No, Master Sidious.”

At least Maul wasn’t facing Sidious alone. At least Dex had been able to keep that one. For all the good it had done.

“Hmmm. I was wrong then. Maul _does_ see a difference. Do you have any charming rejoinders for that, dear Dexter?”

It was the offer for Dex’s last words. He had none. Only regrets.

Sidious gestured with two fingers. “Come, Maul.”

A small, trembling hand slipped into Dex’s and held his bloodied knuckles tight.

It came out as a whisper. Dex could barely believe he heard it, but air heaved into his lungs as it reached his ears.

“No.”

The scowl was back on Sidious’ face, darker. “That is not the correct response.”

* * *

Dex was here.

Dex was here.

Dex had come home and Maul still wasn’t safe and Maul should know better.

_But Dex was still here._

And Master Sidious was going to kill him.

* * *

The small hand tightened on Dex’s fingers. Dex seized the hope in his heart and braced to move. He would have to move fast.

“No!”

The word was barely out of Maul before Dex dove for the blaster, pulling the boy into his arms, even as his fingers closed around the trigger.

Sidious was already moving. A red – _holy kriffing HELL_ – lightsaber ignited. He lunged forward, one step, two.

Dex fired.

Struck, the ship’s starboard engine exploded. All of them were hurled into the air.

Dex shielded Maul with his body, his arms, and braced for the impact on the hangar wall. But when they came to an abrupt halt, debris continued to fly past them. Dex found himself settled to the ground, no more injured than before.

One of Maul’s hands had thrust out from where Dex held him tight, flattened as if pushing against the wall, still meters away. The boy pulled his hand back in and glanced up at Dex, gold fading from brown eyes. Dex nodded in understanding, and Maul stepped down to stand on his own feet.

Dex’s gaze cut a quick survey of the hangar, heavy with smoke. Then, there, the outline of a human facing them, tensed like a coil on the verge of release. Dex braced again, unsure of a third success against him.

“Senator Palpatine!”

Dex almost laughed.

The Jedi’s running approach forced the outline of Sidious to reframe into the meek senator, back into his disguise. Dex took the opening, vanishing among the debris as the Jedi secured their Palpatine, Dex’s and Maul’s home providing shelter one last time. They left the hangar just beyond the Jedi’s sight.

Smuggling was an employment familiar to Dex. His expertise led him and Maul down alleys and back streets of Athus Klee. Slipping around alerted security, both from the hangar and from the Republic escort, Dex felt sure they would make it.

But it wasn’t long before the holonews signs began changing. Dex saw them as he ducked around corners, avoiding crowds. Advertisements dropped from the screens, replaced by a repeated message:

_Dexter Jettster._

_Besalisk. Male._

_Wanted for the Mustafar murders of the Mining Guild members._

_Recently assaulted the visiting Senator Sheev Palpatine._

_Report immediately if seen._

Dex resisted the urge to run. He couldn’t out pace the spread of the signs. He just had to keep moving. Keep moving smart.

The larger shipyards weren’t too far ahead, where the bulk transport cruisers made their departures. They just had to make it there.

Maul held his hand the entire way.

* * *

Maul could barely pay attention to where he was walking, relying completely on Dex’s tug. His mind was elsewhere. Forcing passing eyes and peering gazes to slip away from Dex like the besalisk didn’t exist, even as his face was screaming from every sign.

It would have been too much for Maul, if Dex didn’t know the routes most abandoned. Even so, he was barely keeping up with the ones that were there. And every time he used the Force, he could feel himself sending out a beacon to his Master. Pointing like his own neon sign to their position.

Maul could only hope the Jedi were still fussing over his Master’s alter ego, keeping him at bay.

Then the eyes on them slowly dwindled away, and Maul realized they were now aboard a ship

Dex had tucked them away into a walk-in supply closet, and spliced quickly into a control panel. Maul saw the various security cameras adjust ever so slightly, creating a void in the system, just for them.

But Dex didn’t relax. Not after he scrubbed himself and Maul from the camera footage. Not after he and Maul situated themselves into the void. He stayed standing. Alert. Ready to move. Maul realized Dex was waiting for something else. And, Maul realized, so was he.

Holding each other's hands tight, their eyes never shifted from the supply closet's door. Waiting for the alarms. Waiting for announcement that all ships were grounded until security could inspect. Waiting for _him_.

And then, they heard it. And they felt it beneath their feet.

The ship was launching.

* * *

_That boy always was a disappointment._

_You are not remarkable, Maul. You never were. Replacements are easy to find in the galaxy._

_That is why it never mattered if you survived._

_You are my property._

_That is why I cannot let you go._

_When I looked into your mind, Dexter Jettster, I saw only one outcome. Such a pity you would not give up my property willingly._

_You could have been a fine asset._

_But alas, you have chosen to die._

_The Jedi’s pesky interference may have allowed you to slip away this time, but you cannot escape the inevitability of the Sith._

_Ours is a galaxy shaped on power. And you cannot hide from mine forever._

* * *

Maul felt the ship shudder then smooth out. Hyperspace.

His Master’s presence vanished from his mind.

He was safe.

And Dex was here.

The pain in Maul’s chest shattered.

* * *

It came without warning. Dex nearly leapt out of his skin as Maul began wailing.

Recovering quickly and kneeling immediately, Dex began to draw Maul gently in, only for the boy to leap at him. Face buried against a shoulder, hands making little fists into Dex’s shirt, which was rapidly wet by tears.

Dex’s heart rent itself to pieces even as it dragged his voice back to his life.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, scooping the boy up.

“I’m right here,” he whispered over the cries.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You go ahead and cry. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, and I’m not leaving you.”

Heaving sobs became hiccups, which faded into shuddering breaths, which smoothed into the easy breathing of sleep.

It was a long wait, however, before Dex found himself breathing easy again. He kept expecting passing crew to hear the cries and accost their stowaways. But it appeared the Force decided they needed a lucky break, and the ship was large enough to drown the cries. How kind of it.

Finally, Dex forced himself to settle on the floor, tucking Maul further into his arms. He forced his breath to slow, and his heartbeat followed.

He spent the next long hours in silence, putting together the pieces that had eluded him so at the office of the furbog clerk.

Wanted by the Mining Guild. By the Jedi.

For murders he didn’t commit (and for a beatdown he gave to a bastard). No wonder reputable jobs had eluded him so.

Wanted by a senator who might be something worse.

For the rescue of a child.

Nothing about Sidious’ actions on Athus Klee were accidental. The meticulousness of each decision was clear. Dex and Maul were able to slip free because the city had been unfamiliar to Sidious and the Jedi alike. Because the bastard didn’t know Dex, didn’t know how Maul had changed, and didn’t know the bond between them.

If Dex was honest, even he didn’t realize the bond they had. Not until – even after all his broken promises – he felt that small hand cling to his like a lifeline.

Now all those things had been tested, measured. And to contact the Jedi, to clear up the murders, that would require setting foot near the heart of the Republic. Territory familiar to a senator. The bastard had cut Dex off from critical aid before Dex even knew he needed it. There was no way to get close to the Jedi, no way to clear his name, without risking Maul.

The boy shifted in his sleep, and Dex smiled sadly down at him. Maybe he wasn’t what the boy needed, but he was all that the boy had. And Dex wasn’t about to let that be taken away.

Only one thing for it.

Keep running.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you PrettyBiForAJedi for creating the moodboard. I am SCREAMING.


End file.
